Broken Wings
by silver thorns
Summary: Sometimes she wished she could fly, but her broken heart kept her chained to the earth.


the beginning may surprise you. mwah. and caim's bit in this...that was too fun. never, NEVER get caim to babysit. lol. enjoy, i hope. spent ages on it, really and truly! you may dissaprove of this, and if you do, oh well. i believe the term is 'bite me.' feel free to flame or comment, but if you flame, at least tell me _why_ you don't like it. please?

* * *

Sighing softly, she closed her eyes and found herself drifting, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. His chest, and with it her head, rose and fell with each breath he took. A breeze found its way into the bedroom, slipping under the heavy covers to whisper tauntingly in her ear. Unnerved, she nestled closer to him, her form fitting perfectly against his; almost as if they were…made for each other. The arm that had been draped lightly over her shoulders pulled her closer, and only half asleep he murmured comforting words to her. He never slept properly. The war had stolen that ability from the both of them, and they found it impossible to succumb fully to the comforting black. But it wasn't just the war. Even before that he had suffered troubled sleep. Ever since…it was best not to think on that, lest the tears start and he awoke from his half sleep. The wind whispered again, mocking her, and she found his hand and gripped it tightly. She could not run, though, and she had to fight hard to suppress the feelings that burned her body even more fiercely than the Seals did. How could it be so wrong, yet feel so _right_? She loved him with all her heart, yet would never be able to tell him because…because…

Droplets fell onto his chest, hot and burning as she whimpered softly. Her crying woke him, and he sat up, holding her close. No matter how distant and far apart he grew to the rest of the world, he would always have that soft spot he harboured in his stone heart for her. Of course he would – they were all that was left.

"You alright?"

She nodded, smiling. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream." The tears outside had stopped. The tears in her heart would never end.

He stroked her back gently, murmuring soft words to her. Her shift was thin, and his touch seemed to burn her, his fingers leaving trails of fire along her spine. She pressed her head to his neck, his pulse beating against her lips like little butterfly kisses. Slipping from the bed, he leant against the frame of the window, gazing out at the world that passed on, oblivious to the pain that tore apart her soul. The soft golden light highlighted his features, casting dramatic shadows and making his blue eyes glow.

"I guess I should get up anyway. It's almost morning."

She averted her gaze, biting her lip. He looked…beautiful. Never had she thought to describe a man with such a word, but he fitted it perfectly. He wasn't as handsome as some of the lords she had seen, but he didn't really need it. There was something about him, something so amazing that anyone who saw him was caught instantly. Even her. Especially her.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she whispered. Don't let him hear it. Don't let him see it. Even if it kills you, don't you dare let him find out.

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

Something within her trembled, and she had to fight down a gasp. Her body trembled, and she steadied herself against the wall. Calm. Slow. It would pass, like it always did. He didn't know – she had grown skilled at hiding it. But she was still scared. She longed for him to hold her, to kiss away the pain. Snorting, she kicked herself mentally. Yeah, right. If only.

"Stay with me." she hated how weak her voice sounded. How pathetic. Just like her.

Turning, he frowned a little, confused. "Of course I will. I'm your brother; I _have_ to look after you."

"Promise?" her voice had taken on a desperate edge.

"Furiae, you know I'd never leave you. Even as a goddess, you're still you."

He pulled on a shirt and hugged her before leaving. She stayed alone in the room, frozen. Alone. All alone. _I hope you're right, Caim._

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The little boy ran around, chasing the maids and poking them with his stick, stealing into the kitchens and running out again with a pot on his head and a lid in his other hand. He was a mighty lord, winning battle after battle, war after war, being showered with praise and gifts and finally made king of a fair land. Conquering the highest mountains, defeating the fiercest dragons, saving damsels in distress…who knew what new adventure awaited him!

The boy, Michael, spotted the man sitting under the tree and rushed over eagerly. Every time he was rejected, but who knew? Maybe today would be the day, the day when he…

"Lord Caim! Lord Caim, will you tell me a story?"

He opened his eyes and looked at the eager young hopeful's face with a sigh. "You again?"

"Please, my lord! Please?"

He rubbed his eyes as Michael jumped around excitedly. "I suppose you won't stop unless I do."

"That's right, my lord!"

"…" Michael froze in mid jump and held his breath. He could almost hear the most horrible word, the big, terrible…

"Fine."

The boy blinked, blinked again, cleaned out his ears, jumped around, then sat down in front of the man with a big happy grin plastered across his face.

He didn't see the dark light that had appeared in the cold blue eyes.

"You want a story? One full of heroic deeds and battles." Caim's voice was soft, so soft, silken words flowing easily from his lips. So soft that the child didn't pick up the warning in his voice. The blond head nodded.

"Alright. Not long ago, there was a prince, and he had a sister. Their parents had been murdered by the evil Army and their dragons, and had left the siblings to fend for themselves. The prince loved his sister dearly, but the pain of what the Army had done made him join those that opposed them. At first the others in the Forces resented him, thinking that he was treated better than them because of his noble background, but soon he made his own reputation. Rumours began to spread of a fearless man that won any battle, triumphed over any evil. The prince became a legend, but it was a title he did not want."

Michael leaned closer, tingling. Revenge, a reluctant hero, undefeated champions…it was the stuff proper, exciting stories for little boys were made of.

"But with each war, a little bit of the prince disappeared, until all that was left of his former life was his love for his sister. But she was sad, because she had been given the greatest responsibility in the world. The prince wanted desperately to make her pain go away, but he couldn't, and this knowledge tore at his soul. And then, one day, something terrible happened."

The boy was almost sitting on Caim now, so trapped was he by the words the man had spun. The darkness in the blue eyes was rapidly spreading, unseen by the enraptured child, consuming the shreds of light that clung desperately, unwilling to give up.

"He had been ordered to go to a village where soldiers were being trained for the Army. But when he got there, anger filled his heart. Every single one of those soldiers was a child. Tiny children, whose lives had barely begun. They hadn't sent anyone else, because they knew that only the prince was heartless enough to do it. Part of him recoiled at the thought of killing helpless boys, but its pleas for mercy were choked by the hatred of the Army, and he killed every last child in that village. Not much older than you, and he slaughtered all of them without hesitation. And when he returned, he was treated as a hero."

The joy on Michael's face had turned to horror and anger, and Caim smiled darkly. "I wonder what you would do if you saw him. Avenge those little children? Make the world see how disgusting he truly was? You'd be a hero." The boy nodded in grim determination. "And what if I told you he was still alive? Would you still do it?"

Michael gripped his stick tighter. "I would. He deserves to be punished for what he did!"

Caim stood up and threw his arms wide. "Come on then." A maniacal glint appeared in his eyes as the boy stepped back in shock.

Furiae saw them and raced over. "Caim! Caim, stop it!"

Ignoring his sister's cries, he taunted the child. "Come on, be a hero! Strike down the evil prince and expose his true colours to the world!" Micheal tried to run away, but the man grabbed his shoulder, bringing his face closer. "You aren't _afraid_, are you?"

Pulling the terrified child away, Furiae glared at her brother. "That's _enough_, Caim."

Leaning against the tree and sliding to the ground, he watched Michael run away. "He needed to learn."

"Not like that," she whispered, sitting beside him. "Don't tear his dreams apart."

"Better sooner than later."

"Caim…" But he turned away.

Sighing sadly, she closed her eyes. She had heard the 'story' her brother had told Michael. Her hopes had risen at the line 'the prince loved his sister dearly', only to fall back to earth as she realised it was only the sibling trust. The only love that she should ever feel for him. The only one he would look at her with.

_And the princess loved the prince. She loved him with all her soul, even though it broke her inside. When the prince left to fight, she felt empty and sad, yet relieved that the hurt had lessened. When he returned, the sweet pain nearly made her cry. The prince never noticed, because she had learned to hide it._

Glancing over at him, she stood and pulled him up. "Let's walk."

_Her pain made her restless, and often she would walk with her prince. To be separated caused more hurt than being with him did. She had grown addicted to the bittersweet pain that flooded her whenever she saw his face. It was her life, because it meant he was with her._

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine." Absolutely perfect. She leaned over the wall, seeing the world sprawled out before her. His hands were round her waist to stop her falling, and she loved and loathed it. She wanted to fly! She loved him so much. He was caging her! Behind bars of her own making. Slip free, soar high! But it all feels so _right_.

_Sometimes she felt as if she just wanted to grow wings and fly away. But the princess was fettered by her forbidden love, and was always afraid to take that final leap. Her feelings for the prince and the knowledge it was sin had torn her feathers and drenched her with blood of the guilty and shamed. It had broken her wings, and she would never fly again._


End file.
